


razor's edge

by Timballisto



Series: clarke and lexa vs the world [16]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: (safe words exist for a reason guys), F/F, anger porn, questionable sex practices, season 3 trailer stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 19:20:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5427647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timballisto/pseuds/Timballisto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Based on the S3 promo trailer] Clarke's had enough of being chased through the woods like an animal. She goes to the source.</p>
            </blockquote>





	razor's edge

“Hello Clarke.” Lexa said evenly, her throat jumping against the blade of Clarke’s knife.

“Lexa.” Clarke said.

“Have you come to kill me?” Lexa said. Her voice didn’t tremble.

Clarke ignored her question. “You should probably talk to your bodyguards. A knife in the commanders tent? Someone could get hurt.” Clarke pressed the flat of the blade against Lexa’s throat, smiling grimly at the rasping sound Lexa’s breath made when she exhaled.

“Have you ever killed children, Lexa?” Clarke asked, almost conversationally. Her face was blank, unnaturally empty for a Sky Person.

“I have not.” Lexa managed.

“I have.” Clarke said. She met Lexa’s eyes completely, and Lexa’s heart sank. Clarke’s eyes were dimmed, the light in them that’d shone in defiance and belief and hope- it was all but gone. It made the familiar weight Lexa carried on her shoulders that much heavier.

“I should kill you.” Clarke said. She twisted the blade, pressing with the edge rather than the dull flat. A twitch of her arm and Lexa would be on the floor, gasping her last through a slit in her throat.

A bead of blood dripped down the line of Lexa’s neck.

Lexa was transfixed, her eyes riveted to Clare’s face. She saw the jump in Clarke’s eyes, from her her face to her lips and the brief inkling of what was about to happen before it did.

Clarke dropped the knife to the floor of Lexa’s tent and shoved Lexa backward. The sudden loss of pressure and rush of air into her lungs made Lexa feel lightheaded- that’s the reason she gave herself for why she tumbled backwards onto the floor, her boots catching the leg of her table.

Lexa didn’t have a chance to get her bearings before Clarke was on her. She wasn’t gentle- her fingernails left red gouges in her skin where her hands dug into Lexa’s flesh, and her mouth stung on the thin red line that crossed Lexa’s neck.

Clarke didn’t waste time. Her hands went to the ties at the front of Lexa’s pants, smacking Lexa’s hands away when she tried to help. “Don’t.” 

Lexa didn’t know if she meant don’t touch her, don’t help me, don’t- she lost her train of thought when Clarke shoved her pants down to her knees and swung a leg over Lexa’s hips.

This was too exposed. Her legs were immobile, locked into place by her pants and Clarke’s weight. She felt powerless, weak-

Lexa’s back bowed at the first touch of Clarke’s fingers. The Sky girl wasn’t polite about it- she ground into Lexa’s clit with her fingers until Lexa was gasping. It was almost too rough to be pleasurable. Clarke's other hand snaked up Lexa's side, pressing her thumb against Lexa's windpipe. Lexa struggled to swallow, breath coming reedy and thin through her compressed airway. She felt lightheaded, tipsy from endorphins and oxygen deprivation and only the solid weight of Clarke's bones kept her from floating away. 

“I hate you.” Clarke growled into Lexa’s ear. “I _hate_ you.”

There was something in Clarke’s voice, something Lexa tried to place but couldn’t before Clarke slipped her fingers inside. All of Lexa’s remaining breath left her in one shuddering gasp and Clarke's steady pressure around her throat made her struggle to inhale. Clarke was good at holding her on the edge of breathlessness, pulsing her grip and keeping her on edge but not to the point of panic. It was dangerous, and vulnerable. Lexa deserved it. 

“Clarke.” She said, throwing her head back onto the carpet. The new angle made it easier to breathe, and she sucked in a deep ragged gasp. Her hips chased Clarke’s hand, the edge of pleasure that was rapidly cresting over the horizon- and whined when Clarke stopped.

“Beg.” Clarke whispered. Her breath was hot on Lexa’s throat. “ _Beg_ me”

Lexa’s spine stiffened, but Clarke bore down with her hips. Her fingers curled inside, and Lexa’s mouth fell open in a long moan.

Clarke pulled back, and Lexa saw the grim satisfaction in Clarke’s face at Lexa’s disheveled state. At Lexa’s weakness.

“Please.” Lexa met Clarke’s eyes, asking for more than she had words for. “Please.”

Clarke’s fingers moved again. Lexa came quickly; fast and dirty now that Clarke had gotten what she wanted. She'd wanted submission, capitulation- and Lexa had given it. Her body was the vessel of betrayal, the slick on the inside of her thighs evidence of Lexa's weakness. She lay there, in a haze, her orgasm making her limbs feel heavy and slow.

“Tell your men to stay away from me.” Clarke said, standing. She towered over Lexa, who made no attempt to move. _What if I don't?_ Lexa wanted to ask, feelings Clarke’s eyes raking over her exposed body. _What if I hunt you till the ends of the earth, until you fuck me again, or kill me or forgive me or-_ Lexa honestly did not know which out of the three she preferred the most. She opened her mouth to say something, anything- 

But Clarke was gone, slipping through the flaps of Lexa’s tent and into the night.


End file.
